My Steady Heartbeat
by LoverGurrl411
Summary: "Even when he hadn't known of who she was in the dark, he knew how it felt to be needed so desperately that all he could do was hold her tighter, and kiss her harder. She showed him that."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the plot. :)

My Steady Heartbeat

LoverGurrl411

_/I can honestly say you've been on my mind since I woke up today._

…_These memories come back to life, and I don't mind/_

-Goodbye by Miley Cyrus

Chapter 1 – I Can Honestly Say

It's raining slightly, and the wind is beating against Terry's body. He's on a roof. It's wet and appears like every other one when running or flying. The same roof he stands on every Friday night at 11pm.

It's when _she_ steps out for her break. Her white gold hair shimmering in the darkness of the grimy alley, and her delicate features standing out like fine china…and he wished he could touch her. Terry wished with every drop of life in his body that he could just strip off his Batman suit, jump down, and embrace her. But he _was_ dressed at Batman. And touching her, even once, would open an entire door that he wasn't sure he wanted open. He just knew he missed her.

"Are you on your way?" Bruce asked in Terry's ear, the sound bringing him out of reverence for _her. _Even thinking her name…it was just too much for him.

"Yea" he whispered. Bruce heard him and didn't respond.

She raises a cigarette to her lips. Capri 120 Regular, Terry knew. How? He doesn't even know, he just does. Just like he knows that her favorite color was black, and she loved sunrises but hated sunsets, and she loved to sit down and paint her nails all types of colors but couldn't stand to have someone else paint them…he remembered everything about her that she'd let him know, just like he remembered that she was Ten. She may not dress in the getup, or go gallivanting at all hours of the night, but she still was Ten, deep down, underneath her flawless skin and sparkly eyes.

Terry sighs.

Things used to be simpler. He used to be a rebel without a cause, and he was crazy head over heels in love with Dana, and his nights were plagued by pubescent indecent fantasies. Now he was no rebel, just one solitary man with a cause, and he still loved Dana but as slow as molasses drip he was starting to forget the simple things about her, and his nights were now filled with terror of the streets and at home filled with nightmares of a golden haired beauty with sad eyes giving him a letter that said he just wasn't enough.

He regrets never reading her letter. He regrets it and it haunts him, because no matter how much he tries to cover it up with layers and layers of thoughts of Dana, the truth of the matter is that the core of his beating heart was _her_. It sounds weird even to him, thinking about it, but truth rarely ever sounds normal.

He had loved Dana with a heart that had no substance, no ground to stand on. _She_ became that floor to him when they met, because she was just like him. Even when he hadn't known of who she was in the dark, he knew how it felt to be needed so desperately that all he could do was hold her tighter, and kiss her harder. She showed him that, while Dana never had. Dana still doesn't.

Her face is tilted up towards the unforgiving sky that is pelting bigger teardrops down at them, but she doesn't waiver. Her light blue eyes shine with a sadness that Terry could only fathom in his nightmares and for a selfish moment he wishes that she's maybe sad about him. That maybe she's wanting him like he wants her.

She starts to hum lightly and her lips curve up slightly into a despondent smile, and Terry holds his hands to his stomach; the pain gathering there becoming uncomfortable, but he just couldn't look away. But then her despondency is morphed into…hope? Peace? And he's back to square one, remembering the first time they kissed, and the first time he wrapped his arms around her.

His frustration was stifling, yet he didn't do anything but watch. She only took a ten minute break at 11pm and he only visited once a week.

"I'm getting old here" Bruce's voice can be heard, irritated.

'_You are old' _Terry thought, but didn't speak. He didn't want to risk being heard. What would he say? That he missed her like crazy? That he couldn't survive without her? That their love was epic though short, and to please take him back? He couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him, and so all he could do as time raced against him was to imagine he had spoken out loud and broken the silence of the night.

In his mind she would turn and after recovering from her slight shock she would ask "what are you doing here, Terry". Her voice would elicit a slight tremble in his frame, and she would notice. In his mind, her eyes would cloud with shielded desire and without waiting for a response she would ask "What do you want?" and he would respond "You". In his mind this would be enough and she would light up the sky with a smile so sweet, so full of life, and so _only_ happy that the rain would stop and the movement of the earth would shift.

Her humming stopped, and Terry had no choice but to step out of his castle in the sky, and come crashing down because she is moving away from the wall, unbending her leg, and walking to the door of the establishment. She glances quickly up one last time and scans the rooftops, a habit from when she was _royalty_, and sees Him.

Their eyes lock, and Terry could have sworn that the earth did tilt, and the air was rushed out of his lungs, and she had become suddenly and swiftly the core of the Earth and gravity, holding him down. He felt naked and unsure, until he realized that she didn't see Terry but Batman. She saw hooded face, hooded eyes, and she nodded her once, and stepped inside, leaving Terry out in the cold. Leaving Terry behind. But she didn't know. She was leaving Batman behind, because she was no longer Ten and didn't have a need for him.

And Terry for the first time in his life _hated_ the suit that covered him. He hated Batman with a passion that burned through his veins, riding it like waves headed straight for the epicenter of his heart. To her. And he knew – just as sure he was that he lived and breathed and loved with conviction – that if she knew that it was Terry under that mask, she'd hate Batman too.

There was a solidarity to the thought that strengthened his backbone, and moved his legs to walk away from where he was standing on that rooftop, and gave him the might of heart to caress the wind with her name falling off his yearning lips…saying "Night Melanie".

-TBC-

AN- So, how was it? I hope all who read like it. I'm planning to spin this into a full fledged story, what does everyone think? Tell me if I should or if I should just leave it like this. I must give a thank you to VChen for inspiring this fanfic. I read hers (which you guys should all read if you get the chance) and then noticed how there really were so few FF's of Terry and Melanie and just couldn't resist the angst writing. :)

Sneak Peak of Chapter 2 –

"_Don't you want me, Terry?" Dana asked, hurt shinning her eyes like firecrackers on Fourth of July. _

"_I do, I do. Of course I—" Terry said hastily, but there was a nagging in his head that told him he was lying. And then he saw Melanie standing behind Dana, effectively cutting him off, because he couldn't lie knowing Melanie could hear him. _

Well, till next time (maybe) ;)


	2. Once Upon a Time

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the plot. :)

A.N- The song lyrics underneath is the translation of the song. This song is in Arabic.

My Steady Heartbeat

LoverGurrl411

_/Oh story teller, tell us a story…Take us far from this world…Tell us about heaven and hell,_

…_about the bird that never flew in his life…Narrate to make us forget this time._

_Leave us in the world of once upon a time/_

-Raoui by Souad Massi

Chapter 2 – Once Upon A Time

_He feels her breath on his skin, burning him. It's a burning so deep that pain is nonexistent, and the only thing he can't stand is the thought of not feeling her burning him. _

'_Terry, do you love me?' Melanie asks. Those sad eyes locked on his, and Terry desperately wants to pull her tight against him, and hold her until his arms are numb and his love is awestruck, but for some reason his hands can't move. He can't reach out to her, so he attempts, the only way a man can to show her through words. _

'_Always. I'll always love you Melanie. Always' he says. He tries to drive his point home, but all Melanie does is start to cry. _

'_Liar!' she says harshly in a whisper. The tears stream like an ocean down her lovely face. Every tear drop is like a knife in Terry's own heart and inadvertently his own eyes start to tear up. _

'_Why? Why don't you love me, Terry?' Melanie asks, face a mask of torture. There are no words yet created in the human language to express the depth of sadness that passes through Terry at the sight of the woman he loves crying out her doubt to him. Crying out all the love she has for him; as if the moment she stopped crying meant she'd stopped loving him. So all Terry can do is reach for her, but once again his hand stays immobile. His eyes look down at his traitorous arm, and behold! It is not him who won't reach for her, but Dana grasping at his arm like a lifeline. Dana's smile is glittering like a brand new diamond. _

'_I love you, Terry' Dana says softly, a gentle smile upon her face and Terry relaxes. His arm no longer struggles against the weight of her hand. He turns around to face Melanie, and all he can do is cry silent tears as Melanie seems to drift further and further away. The darkness starts to wrap its cloak of night and dagger around her, and she lets it. Pain pouring out of her in waves that crash against Terry's chest and suddenly he can't breathe. His breath becomes more and more shallow as each second passes but Dana isn't noticing, and all Terry can say as he's dying is 'Always'…and the darkness starts to consume him too. _

Terry sits up in bed, gasping for dear life, only to realize he isn't out of breath and he isn't dying. He runs his hand through his unruly dark hair and throws his legs over the side of the bed. He _hates_ this bed. He remembers when it was the safe haven of him and _her_. Here we go again. One of these days he'd have to learn to say her name in his mind, if only just in his mind, Terry acknowledges to himself, not just in spur of the moment epiphanies.

The sun is rising, and the dusty colors of red and pink and blue and forest green cast a shadow over Gotham, and Terry can't help but remember how Melanie –there. Oh shit, the pain—looked as she watched the sun change the features of buildings upon buildings masking them for a few minutes as mountains and Amazonian forests. She had looked like an angel –no! He wouldn't do this to himself. Not today, the day of Dana's birthday.

Her shinning hair spilt over his chest—stop it Terry, he rebukes himself.

Her eyes sparkling like blue liquid—not now! Terry tries to stop himself, but the sunrise brought with it too many memories of the past. It was like a story playing out in his mind, projected by the sun gliding from the east slowly to the west. So slowly that if Terry let it, he could spend all day retelling stories of when he had loved her, and of when he had let her love him too.

He needs a distraction, at least for the few hours he was available before school, and so he went to the only place that allowed him to hide…he went to the bat cave.

But when he gets there, Bruce is already in the lair. But, he isn't sitting down at the computers as always. Instead he is standing a few feet deeper into the cave, only his silhouette noticeable to Terry. As Terry gets closer to where he is standing he notices that Bruce is standing up straight, cane forgotten at his side. Terry finally steps right next to Bruce and sees a vibrant rose, flush with the color red, sparkling like firecrackers in the night sky, standing in a see through glass contraption. The glass surrounds the rose, for what purpose Terry doesn't know. He assumes to preserve the beauty. The endless beauty.

"Selina gave me that rose, a long time ago" Bruce's voice cuts through the air, pain etched on the corners, and Terry revels in the thought of forgetting his own pain.

"Why?" Terry asks. Simple word, loaded with countless questions boiled down to one. But Bruce ignores him, and continues on as if he hadn't spoken.

"It's days like this that I remember her. Days when loneliness catches up to me, and I can almost hear her laughter." Bruce trailed off. Terry doesn't speak. He listens because he knows how difficult it is to try and put feelings and memories into words. Some things in this life just don't translate and shouldn't be translated, like the story of heartbreak. Heartbreak's language is emotions and passions, and Bruce and Terry are not specialists or scholars trained in dissecting ancient languages.

"She laughed like bells, you know. It was a laughter so clear that no matter what crowd we were in, I could always find her by that loud bell-like laugh." Bruce blows out a dry laugh, quickly, and then sobers once again. His eyes never once waivered from the rose. It transfixed him, and yet Terry never once looked away from Bruce, wondering if the lines of ages and stories past that marred Bruce would one day grace him.

Bruce doesn't continue his melancholy story however and just stands in silence, watching the unmoving rose, lost within his own mind. After five minutes Terry became impatient to hear what happened with the rose.

"So, what happened? Why'd she give you the rose?" Terry asks. Subtly isn't his forte, so he doesn't ever try to pretend.

"The rose doesn't age." Bruce says, a tone of finality reaching the edges of the dark and damp room. He says it as if that is supposed to explain everything, but it doesn't explain a damn thing to Terry.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Terry asks frustrated. His long hands run through his hair. Habit.

Bruce starts to hunch once again, and his strong features filled with reminiscence retreats back to its inscrutable mask, and just like that the Bruce Terry knows is back as if he never left. "You'll know when you get to be my age." He responds, as he's already moving away, back to his normal post, sitting sentinel over the ungrateful city of Gotham. "You're going to be late."

Terry sighs, but leaves anyway. He feels as If he'll never understand that old kooky man. On his way to school he envisions Bruce telling his story of Selina. Of the love they shared, and of the inevitable end that was epic in proportions.

"Terry!" Dana yells over the crowd of people, colors of blues and reds and yellows taking their place, milling around waiting for the bell to ring. She is wearing a peach skirt the flows around her thighs, and white boot heels that are short, with a white tank top. She looks so innocent running to him, face with a smidge of makeup to make her face look _more_ natural. As she races to him, Terry stands still in the courtyard of the school, wondering why he cares that she wore makeup or looks innocent. And then the sledge hammer hit its mark, and he understands—it is because Melanie (shit, there goes that pain again…just endure it Terry) never wore makeup. She never wore it because she said that no one can get more natural than a face free of makeup. She never wore makeup yet she never looked innocent…except when the sun was setting. Then she was like a child, finding out for the first time ever that Santa didn't exist.

Dana lunges into Terry's arms, and out of reflex he catches her. For a moment, he forgets about Melanie—it was getting a bit better—and all the pain and heartache associated with her. As he swings his girlfriend around in his arms, and laughs with her at the childish carelessness of the moment Terry forgets that there was some epic love in his life to forget. But the bell rings and he has to set her down, and for the first time in a really long time, he grips her tighter because he doesn't want to let her go; he doesn't want to have to remember that there was ever a light eyed angel that told him stories of passion within every whisper of kisses…but it's too late, and he's already remembered.

"What class do you have now?" Dana asks excitedly. She's practically bouncing on her heels, all smiles. Terry smiles softly in response. He didn't hear a word she just said, too wrapped up in the pain of yesterday, but he can't help but smile. Dana just did that to him, he supposes.

"You didn't hear me, did you?" Dana asks, a frown and an uplift of her right eyebrow ruining her happy face.

"Nope." Terry says, still smiling. It was in moments like this where Terry can clearly remember why Dana was the North Star in his life at one point, always guiding him back home.

She rolls her eyes, grabs his hand and tugs him away from the school entrance.

"Woah," Terry smirks, "you realize we're heading away from the school right princess?"

'_His girl was going bad on him_,' Terry couldn't help but laugh in his own head.

"Yup. We're skipping class because it's my birthday and knowing you lately you'll ending up with some excuse to not be able to spend time with me later!" Dana huffed, still hauling him though he had no problem keeping up on his own. Restaurants are passing him by, one by one, yet Dana doesn't stop. But the scenery is becoming more and more familiar to him. A scenery that he has passed many times to visit _her_—great, regression is _so_ in Terry—while disguised.

Give a guy villains and he's relaxed but give a guy the route to his ex-girlfriend and he turns back into the lost puppy he's always been when it came to her.

And soon they stopped, right in front of the restaurant _she _works in.

'_oh no oh no oh no, God cannot hate me this much'_ Terry repeated like a mantra in his mind.

"Maybe we should go to a different restaurant?" Terry's mouth opened and spoke before he could reel it back in. His shoulders were tense, and his heart pounded deeply; as if it was about to break.

"Why? Come on, don't be such a wuss!" Dana laughed off his concern and tried to ease his radical concern by wrapping her arms around his neck and attempting to soothe away his worries with her kisses. Her lips lean in, all dark colored which is how Dana loves it and how Terry _used_ to love it, but her lips don't meet warm smooth lips. Instead, they meet smooth skin that doesn't move against her.

Terry had turned his away at the last second when he saw her lips about to make contact. His heart had rebelled. His mind was saying for Terry to forget Melanie—oh god, am I catching a heart attack?—because that's what he'd wanted all along, but his heart clenched and got caught up in one endless beat and Terry knew his body would forever belong to one girl he can't even have. So he had turned his head, and now the rejected look on Dana's face forced Terry to look down in shame. It was a shame so deep rooted that if he closed his eyes he could picture shame as a living breathing organism—no—disease inside of him.

"You don't want me?" Dana asked, her pain shining like roman candles on the Fourth of July, filling the color and the iris like small explosions.

"I do, I do. Of course I—" Terry said hastily, but there was a nagging in his head that told him he was lying.

And then he saw Melanie—pain forgotten—standing behind Dana, effectively cutting him off, because he couldn't lie knowing she could hear him.

Dana's arms are still wrapped around Terry's neck, and Melanie saw it. Her eyes drifted slowly from the arms, to the face, to Terry. Dana noticed him distracted and let go of him to turn around and what she saw made the ugly creature of suspicion seep into her bloodstream like heroine.

"Oh, hi! I'm Dana. Terry's girlfriend." Dana spoke, choosing her words carefully, looking for a particular reaction. She didn't get one.

Melanie didn't demand an explanation like Dana would have done, or stood there in silence till Terry felt so guilty he just gave one up like Max would have done. Melanie, in true Melanie-fashion took another sweeping look until landing on Terry, giving him one of her heartbreaking sad smiles, and turns and walks away.

But this was Melanie, and Terry could never just watch her walk away. It wasn't in his nature, so in true Terry-fashion he chased after her.

Leaving Dana all alone on the sidewalk, on her birthday as she watched him chase after another woman.

It was May 4, 8:30 am… and in true Gotham fashion it started to rain, telling a story filled with pain.

TBC

A.N – Soo, what does everyone think? I hope it didn't feel rushed or anything. I just couldn't get this scene out of my head, so I had to. It wasn't too angst-y was it? Let me know, if it was! :D

Special thanks to Gleek2beat and Vytina for all the extra love that definitely motivated me to get this out before the weekend. :)


	3. The Measure of a Man

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the plot. :)

A.N- Thanks a lot to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. It really makes me smile. Sounds simple but a smile is worth a thousand words, you know? ;)

My Steady Heartbeat

LoverGurrl411

_/And when you fall apart, am I the reason for your endless sorrow?_

_There's so much to be said. And with a broken heart, your walls can only go down but so low._

_Can you hear me when I call your name?/_

-Call Your Name by Chris Daughtry

Chapter 2 – The Measure of a Man

The measure of a man isn't in how tough he is or how much he bench presses, but in the weight of the tears he sheds as they hit the ground. And Terry's few tears sparkle like diamonds as they crash against the cold wind that blows, trying to move him closer to Melanie. But he can't. He is standing within arm's reach of her but can't find the will to move closer.

"Melanie…" he whispers, but Melanie has already turned to face him.

"What is there left to say, Terry?" Melanie says simply. Her eyes sing the song of pain along the edges of every shine that stands within.

"Everything" Terry blurts out incredulously. But after the words are out of his lips, his chest clenches at the thought of what that implied. Would he have to admit that he never read her letters? Would he have to admit to wanting her something fierce?

Melanie looks at him. _Really_ looks at him. It's those kinds of soul searching stares that make men quiver deep within themselves and women shift uncomfortably. After a long minute she speaks, and the words that leave her lips are strong and yet Terry had never seen her so vulnerable.

"You're girlfriend is waiting for you back there. I'd say there's nothing left to say besides that." She speaks, her eyes transforming into the milky-way; mixed with emotions so raw that Terry took a step towards her unconsciously. He didn't know what to say or do, so instead he keeps walking until he reaches her, and for the first time in what felt to Terry as forever, he embraced her as the lover he once was to her.

And with a moment of hesitancy, she embraces him back…and for those few seconds of blissful ignorance the world was right again.

Until it wasn't. Melanie detangles her arms from Terry's waist, crushing the pieces of his heart that were already shattered on the floor. She tries to step away but Terry just grips her tighter in a moment of unmasked emotion. He didn't want to let her go.

'_It's not fair' _Terry thinks to himself. But life never promised anyone fair, only the liveliness of every moment. But to accept that he couldn't control what would happen makes the Batman in him roar and rage and shake in his cage locked deep within Terry's mind; it isn't in Batman's nature to lie down and play dead. So Terry silently begs God to promise him more moments like these, hoping to appease the Batman and his lonely heart.

"You never read my letter did you?" Melanie asks perceptively. There was something in the way Terry is gripping her that sets Melanie on high alert that something is wrong.

'_Maybe he never got my letter_,'she thinks but she knows better. Batman is the most responsible man she'd ever met. Terry received the letter, she was sure of it. So instead of badgering him, Melanie allowed Terry to engulf her in the heat of his body, waiting out his answer.

It was a hard moment for Terry. It is a moment where language fails, and all the emotions that Terry wanted to say couldn't translate. All the emotions and all the thoughts that were incoherent in his mind and heart does not convert to English, and all he is left with is a simple "No" leaving his lips.

"It's okay, Terry. No, really, it is." Melanie tries to soothe Terry. She notices that he seems so tense and all she can do is attempt to comfort him, though the pain of hearing her fears confirmed is almost all consuming and crippling. "We can't help how we feel sometimes, and…" she trails off.

She's afraid. Melanie is afraid to say her pain allowed, because then it would be real. She starts to shake slightly, and Terry just grips her harder.

"And, you didn't care enough to read my letter. And that's okay" She finishes, letting out a huge breath at the end.

"No!" Terry yells at her. He releases her as if she had burned him, and betrayal aligned his eyes.

'_How could she think that about me? About us?'_ Terry's mind screams at him, weighing him down with emotions to strong for just a man to bear.

'_As if he has a right to feel that way. HE left me. Not the other way around" _Melanie thinks to herself. The air coming into her lungs becoming shallower but she wouldn't give in to panic and pain. She wouldn't, and just like that she feels the cloak of Ten enshroud her and she's never been stronger and more fierce. Her bright blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, but there is a fire in them that makes Terry want to shrink back into himself, but he doesn't. He too sees the battle lying ahead of him, and knows that he isn't strong enough to face such tribulation. He isn't tough enough but Batman is, and so that is where they stand: Ten and Batman, unmasked, facing off ready for an epic battle of the Heart in an indeterminate street.

And Terry's phone rings.

-TBC-

AN- I know, I know! You hate me right? It's really short, but I wanted to give you guys something to hold you off. I've realized that if I make my chapters shorter that I update a lot more *as in every week/couple of weeks* than if I make one long chapter, which then takes me MONTHS to get out. You guys can tell me if you prefer the one long chapter though. :)

Anywho, love ya'll and review and tell me what you guys think! :D


	4. Of What is the Heart Made?

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the plot. :)

A.N- Thanks a lot to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. Sorry for the long wait but for some reason I hit a bit of a roadblock with the middle of this chapter. On top of that finals were hectic but thankfully they're over and now I'm back on track and all yours! Hope you enjoy! :)

My Steady Heartbeat

LoverGurrl411

_/_Next time you wanna go on and leave, I should just let you go on and do it.

'Cause now I'm using like I bleed. It's like I checked into rehab

And baby you're my disease_/_

-Rehab by Rihanna

Chapter 2 – Of What Is The Heart Made?

The simplest feeling in the entire world is the feel of a broken heart. There is no confusion when the heart is breaking or anger or any of the other numerous emotions that exist in the world. All there is, is an engulfing sadness and despondency that can be described as nothing other than _pure_, and what is purer than a broken heart? Nothing.

Melanie watched as Terry's hands snatched his phone up and with one last glance at her answered the phone call, effectively cutting off the offending noise.

Melanie watched with a heavy heart and a somber strained smile as the man she adored once again proved that he does not care enough about her—_them—_to ignore a simple phone call.

"McGinnis" Terry answered the phone. His hands are shaking slightly from the pressure of reigning in his Batman side; the side that wanted to rush to Melanie's side and claim her right there against the wall and wash away with every impassioned kiss and bold caress any doubt of his love for her.

"Terry! What the hell is your problem?" Max yelled over the line. She was furious. Dana had called Max when Terry had left her standing alone, hysterical with the raw feeling of rejection.

"Max, I can't talk right now" Terry tried to get off the line, but Max wasn't having any of that.

"The hell you can't! You know where Dana is right now? Crying her eyes out in some bathroom!" Max shouted. She was expecting a fight, or for Terry to go on the defensive, but what she wasn't expecting was complete and utter silence. Terry felt guilt wash over him like tiny needles prickling all over his skin, and he wanted to cry like the day he was born. He wanted to crawl into a corner and just bawl his eyes out, because now who did he have? He hurt the one woman who had always stood by him, even when he couldn't give her the explanations she was looking for. Dana had never left him permanently or betrayed him—can Terry say the same for Melanie?

"You did that Terry. You." Max said, finally her voice had lowered to just above a whisper. She wished she was there, to be able to see Terry's eyes when she said that; to see the emotion swirling in their depth and be able to say that at least he wasn't heartless. But _silence is a text easy to misread_, as best said by A.A. Attanasio, and the truth of those words were shown when all Max understood from Terry's silence was that he just didn't know what to say. Max didn't understand that Terry was feeling so much that he couldn't bring forth to his lips the correct words to utter that would encompass his feeling of guilt for Dana and his longing for Melanie, though he had them in his mind; saying such words would be 'an unmanly display of emotion', Terry could practically hear Bruce speaking in his head.

"I know. I know Max," Terry began. He felt as though he was burning from the inside out and he needed to purge himself from these self-loathing feelings that were welling up from deep within the pit of his stomach. "But what do you want from me? I'm trying." Terry finished in a whisper. His mind just kept repeating the mantra '_I'm only human. I'm only human'_.

Melanie started to move, impatient with the waiting that Terry was making her do. She wasn't this weak little girl who would wait around for whenever Terry felt he was ready to make her the center of his attention. She just wasn't and Melanie wasn't going to pretend. So, she started to turn and walk away. Her feet felt like lead and she lifted them and her heart weighed heavy inside her chest, but she kept moving. Until Terry noticed that she was leaving.

"Wait!" Terry shouted to Melanie. She paused mid-step.

"What?" Max asked confused on the line.

"Not you!" Terry shouted into the phone to Max. Melanie misinterpreted and regained her walk away from Terry…and each step was a mile separating them, and Melanie could almost feel the tears springing forth in her eyes, but she wouldn't cry. If she wasn't worth Terry's time than he wouldn't be worth hers. But how to convince the heart of such a treacherous thing that goes against all it demands?

"Shit! Max, I have to call you back" Terry exclaimed hurriedly, and quickly ended the phone call with a button. With the click of the closing cellular, Terry sprinted the short piece to reach Melanie, and when he reached her he grabbed her roughly by the arm and swung her around to face him. The gentle man that chased her down the block than jumped in front of her to stop her was gone. This was the cold Batman that was indignant that Melanie was facing, but she wasn't afraid.

'_Bring it on_' The Ten inside of Melanie thought.

"Why the hell is it so easy for you to walk away from me?" Terry spoke harshly. The words were rough in his throat giving an edge to his anger.

"I don't know, Terry. Why is it so easy for you to dismiss me?" Melanie countered caustically. She roughly tried to snatch her arm from Terry's grasp but he didn't let her. They were going to hash it out one way or the other right there and then, whether Melanie liked it or not.

"Don't do that. Don't act like you didn't do anything wrong!" Terry said angrily. His voice was raw and within the contours of his words Melanie could see pain take shape. He was hurt, deep inside, and Melanie couldn't figure out why, so she ignored his pain and instead kept a vigil eye on hers. Melanie had to watch her pain; to be sure it didn't suddenly buckle under the pressure of Terry's dark sad eyes and suddenly forget it had indeed existed.

Melanie went to retort, but a sudden exhaustion crept upon her like a drought in an unsuspecting London. This exhaustion was so bone deep that she didn't know if she had enough passion left within her weary soul to stand and argue insipid things; for that is truly what Terry and Melanie are arguing: insipid things.

They want to argue about matters of the heart: Terry truly wants to ask why she doesn't seem to need him like he needs her. Terry truly wants to ask why Melanie seems to always be haunted by the past, letting that past create a barrier between them. Melanie truly wants to ask why Terry never seems to love her without condition. Melanie truly wants to ask why every time something goes wrong with them he runs back to Dana. But instead they cover up these needy thoughts with superfluous angry words, that do mean something, but what they aren't asking could mean so much more.

And so Melanie simply said "I'm tired, Terry. I'm tired of seeing you angry with me, and I'm tired of always feeling second best to some imaginary girl in my head, or your phone, or whatever else in your life. I'm tired, Terry."

She didn't know what else to say. All Melanie felt she could do was just say what she felt in the simplest words.

"I'm tired, too" Terry whispered. He let go of her arms and touched her cheek. It was soft, like a baby's bottom and Terry was content for that small moment in time. "I need…you" He said, and the words sounded as if they were being tortured out of him. He had told Dana he loved her countless times, but saying that he needed Melanie made him feel as if he was on fire, burning the vocal cords in his throat.

Melanie heard what he said…but it simply wasn't enough.

"Do you find it that hard to say that to your girlfriend?" Melanie asked, and the tear in her voice made Terry almost whimper. It crushed him in a way few things in life could. It crushed his spirit. But before he could answer, those sad eyes of hers were drowning him into an oblivion where he could almost feel her pain. And then her lips were on his, assaulting them with her bitter tears trailing down to her chin.

Terry moaned into her mouth and he crushed her body to his, molding her to fit against him, separated by nothing but the inconstant wind. This kiss only last a few moments, but in those moments their ardor was so potent that the sun was given renewed energy to overpower the clouds and the rain and the wind started to howl, and the leaves around Gotham danced with the clear air. This was their love in action, and it was beautiful. But the kiss ended and all that was left of that fervor was a faint memory of their electric past lingering on their flushed cheeks.

"Why didn't you read my letter? If I was so damned important to you, why didn't you read my letter?" Melanie practically begged him to answer, eyes trained on his. She was losing her composure to the raw angst that was battling inside of her mind.

_Ring. Ring. Ring_ Terry's phone disrupted the intense atmosphere.

It was Bruce, Terry knew. That was his designated ring tone, and he wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important. Especially since Terry was supposed to be in class right now. Terry wanted to curse. He wanted to ignore that phone ringing endlessly in the air, and focus on the woman who troubled his dreams and tormented his thoughts. He wanted to weep in emotional fatigue. But he was Batman, as that phone kept reminding him. He couldn't.

Terry never took his eyes off Melanie as he picked up, but her eyes became downcast and he knew he once again failed to put her first. He knew he was puppet master in his own misery.

He knew it was his fault that she refused to hear him out, but he also knew that she would if she thought he had answers. But he didn't have any, and she knew it because though she didn't know he was Batman, she knew _him_. She knew the him that loved chocolate ice cream better than chocolate cake. She knew the him that loved to swim in the nude but only in the ocean. She knew the him that mattered.

"McGinnis" Terry said into the phone.

"There's a heist going on at the Wellington Bank. They need you there." Bruce spoke at Terry. Not even a 'sorry to disturb you' hello. But Terry wasn't really expecting one either. There was no space for politeness in the testosterone filled phone call.

"How did you know I wasn't in school?" Terry asked, momentarily distracted from Melanie's profile by the curious thought.

"I'm Batman" Bruce deadpanned arrogantly. Terry just rolled his eyes, conscious of his slightly enigmatic mood. Bruce, with his old age, got those every once in a while.

"I'm on my way" Terry said and swiftly hung up. Melanie heard his response and her shoulders sagged. Terry went to apologize but Melanie put up her hand and placed it on his chest. She lifted her face and gave Terry a brilliant poignant smile.

"It's fine. We all do what we have to" Melanie said. She was gripping his shirt tightly in her hands. Terry was doing the same to her hips. They just didn't want to let go, too afraid of the mistakes they'll repeat simply by being apart.

"I do care" Terry said almost too softly to be heard, but Melanie heard it. She heard it for everything that Terry meant it as, but it didn't make the ache of inadequacy in her stomach subside and it didn't make Terry feel like he achieved anything either.

"If you care so much, why didn't you find me _on purpose_?" Melanie asked quietly, with a quick kiss to Terry's cheek and fled the scene, leaving Terry with an outstretched hand trying to catch her. But Terry was very used to this ending. He was an expert in watching Melanie leave. And once he couldn't see her silhouette anymore, he too turned and left.

'_Of what are their hearts made of_' a bird hanging on a tree may have wondered, as he watched silently, no song on his beak.

'_Of what are their hearts made of…_'

-TBC-

A.N.- Sooooo, what do you guys think? Was it up to your expectations or did it drag too long? Feel free tell me if I prolong moments on waaay too much.

Credit goes to Gleek2Beat for the Dana in the bathroom idea. :)

Love it? Hate it? Review! ;)


	5. Waiting For a Better Day

Disclaimer – I own nothing but my beating heart that hurts for Terry's angst.

A.N – The song for this chapter is AWESOME!

My Steady Heartbeat

LoverGurrl411

_Time and time, I thought through it all; how we loved and loved_

_And how we fought each other pushing one another to be somebody else_

_-Love's To Blame, _Joel & Luke

Chapter 5 – Waiting For A Better Day

Terry sat in the Bat cave thinking about the letter he never read. He thought and thought and thought, and came up with various scenarios. Some letters declare Melanie's undying love for him, while others profess her need to love him but leave. Every varied version of the letter he never read makes Terry cringe just a bit more. He keeps thinking on purpose.

He wants the pain to swallow him. He needs the pain to cover him like hot liquid. He needed to feel something besides lost.

The heist earlier was a bust, fake, and Terry has this nagging feeling in the back of his brain that tells him that something sinister is brewing.

'_This is Gotham. When isn't there something sinister brewing?'_ Terry thought, but the sarcasm was just another mechanism of avoidance. He knows it. He still can't seem to stop.

"Many people have gone mad staring into dark space like that" Bruce interrupted Terry's thoughts.

Terry wanted to say some witty comeback, or just talk shop, but he couldn't. His mind couldn't leave the feel of having Melanie in his arms alone. The impassioned touch of her lips branded itself into the retina of his eye, and now all he sees is _her_.

"Did Selina love you?" Terry asked instead. He launched himself metaphorically into the hands of the all-knowing used-to-be Batman. His mouth made the decision for him to finally stop avoiding the issue at hand.

"Yes," Bruce answered at once. There was no doubt in his voice. There was no insecurity or silent 'maybe' in his deep baritone. Trust and certainty caressed the simple 'yes' and Terry felt disheartened and confused.

"How do you know, though? How did you know she loved you, and it all wasn't in your head? You've said yourself before that she betrayed you time and time again." Terry asked Bruce, and there was a slight desperation in the tone that made Bruce look up suddenly and search Terry's face. Bruce searched the contours of his features and took in every tilt of his mouth and every slight twitch in eyes. Bruce saw it all and all he truly saw was himself thirty – forty years ago…when he too was in love and yearning.

"If you're searching for poetry, you came to the wrong place. You just know."

"So, what? We're just animals ruled by instinct?" Terry came back caustically, but there was an underlying need that spoke volumes in the room that echoed.

"I can't give you any Shakespeare answers because Selina's eyes weren't like the sun and I highly doubt the moon was ever envious of her or half as inconstant as her. Love isn't brains, kid. You either feel it or you don't, and when someone feels it for you…you just _know_ and it's hard not to feel it back." Bruce finished, and turned back to his work.

Terry was left stumped and aching for Melanie, wondering if she did love him, but only because it was hard to not love someone back. And then he couldn't help but know that he would never be worthy of her love.

And the cycle of thinking started all over again.

-TBC-

A.N – I know, I know. Total filler! I Suck! But I honestly had to write _something_ or else this story would never move along and you guys would be waiting FOREVER for the next chapter. But I hope, even as a filler the writing still kept everyone interested. Let me know what you think. It's no insult to tell me this chapter blows. :)


	6. Cold Case Love

Disclaimer – Don't own so if you sue you're a jerk.

A.N. – **PLEASE READ** I am in desperate need of a Beta! I finally got my muse back with this story and I really would like a beta! I hope to be updating more regularly since now I know where this story is going and I am soo excited! If you think you could be a good beta, just leave a review saying or send a pm! Thanks! :)

**WARNING: This chapter contains profanity that I may not have used before in case it offends anyone. It's not crazy, but it's there so be forewarned. :)**

_I don't need proof. I'm torn apart and you know_

_What you did to me was a crime: Cold Case Love. And _

_I let you reach me one more time, but that's enough…Truth was there all along, _

_Tell me how did we miss it? We opened up a cold case love, and it got the best of us._

_-Cold Case Love by Rihanna_

Chapter 6 – Cold Case Love

Melanie had just gotten off of work and all she could do was stand outside in front of the restaurant. All she could do was remember how Terry's arm had been wrapped around another woman. All she could remember was how he said he cared but…to her it didn't mean a damn thing.

He never read her letter, and _that_ did mean more than maybe it should.

So she walked home. She walked because she didn't want to run and she couldn't just stop. It all meant something metaphorical and deep, but the truth is that Melanie just didn't care to realize any of it. She was hurting in the hardest way: in the heart.

She reached her apartment building in gloomy Gotham and standing on her steps, was her worst nightmare.

Family.

Terry was sitting on his bed in his cold dark room. He was sitting on a bed with no covers because the covers reminded him of Melanie and he didn't want reminders. He just wanted…to be back at fourteen when his father was alive and he wasn't an angry teen and girls wore their hearts on their sleeves and just _told_ you what they wanted and he could push them to show his affection. He wanted things to be simple again.

Knock Knock.

Terry turns and standing in the doorway was his mother, and her hair framed her face. There was nothing overly special about it but he remembered when he was a child and used to grip her hair with a tight fist and it would take her countless minutes to get him to let go. The memories were flashing through his eyes like random images in a movie or a carelessly put together photo album.

Terry felt the tears sting his eyes…but he was a man. Men didn't cry, so instead he just leaned back against the wall next to his bed and put his arms in his pockets. The jeans he was wearing were thin enough that when he pinches himself he can actually feel it. He relishes in the pain and focuses on it as the tears in his eyes subside.

"Are you okay, kid?" His mother asks him. She could tell that he was upset. When he had walked through the front door earlier to go see Mr. Wayne he had said 'Bye Mom! Love You!' There had been something off about the way he had said it, as if he was only saying it to her because he couldn't say it to someone else. It made his mother feel as though she wasn't as involved in her son's life…it made her feel like she didn't know her own kid.

"Yea, I'm fine." Terry responded, but his voice was dead. He couldn't find it in himself to fake happiness, he was too focused on the pictures in his mind, first of his mother, then his father, then Melanie. The simple days and nights of Melanie. Not the one who he knew to be Ten or the one with countless problems and complexities, but the one that used to smile sadly at him then make love to him as though it was the end of the world.

"Did you and Dana have a fight?" His mother asked. Terry just sighed. Dana. What to say about her? That he just didn't love her like he once had? That he couldn't touch her without the touch of another creeping into his thoughts? That she just wasn't what he yearned for when he wakes up in the middle of the night plagued by nightmares that stem from his realities.

"Not really. It's just…over" He said with a shrug. He pushed the images aside, and focused on the now.

"You want to talk about it?" She asked and Terry could tell that she wanted him to. She wanted to bond with her son over relationship problems that plague every teenager, and help him through it, but he wasn't a normal teenager and neither was Melanie – _Ten_.

"Nah, it's done." He replied with a small smile. If only Melanie could hear him now. He had spoken so sure and with such finality that Melanie could never doubt him, but it was all fake. He wasn't sure it was over with Dana, because though she wasn't the one he wanted, Melanie didn't seem to want him…and anything was better than being alone. He didn't want to be Bruce when he grew old, holding on to memories with a fierce grip because there was no one with him to replace them and make new memories – though not better ones, just new.

Mary walked into the room fully and, frankly she was just too tired to really push. She worked full time and dealt with two children, though one fancied himself all grown up. She had come home to cook a dinner that only she ended up eating because Matt had filled himself with junk food while she wasn't looking and Terry just never showed up. Then she cleaned the house which no one spent barely any time in anyway, but still managed to make a mess of and it would be the same mess tomorrow. With all that in mind, she just didn't have the energy to push for information that was obvious her son didn't want to give, so instead she leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

She closed her eyes as she planted the kiss and wished that when she opened them he would be a small child again that loved only her unconditionally. But she opened them and looked into his eyes. Really looked at her son, and she knew that scars of love were the small lines that were starting to mar his handsome face – the laugh lines at the corner of his lips, and the worry lines on his forehead when he furrowed his brows, they were testament and she hurt for her son.

"Whoever she is, don't be like your father. He was always too insecure of what he actually felt to say or do anything, and in the end it destroyed us." Mary spoke softly as she went to stop at the door.

"Mom?" Terry was confused at how she knew and what she was trying to say, but all she responded with was the repeated line of "Whoever she is, just don't be like your father."

She closed the door behind her, and Terry was once again bathed in darkness, remembering why he had been in the dark to begin with. His longing for Melanie had driven him to silence and solitude, and his separation of Dana which he hadn't seen since the incident had driven him merely to think more on Melanie.

Moonlight shined through the window and he couldn't help humming "Lavender Blue, Dilly Dilly" from some cartoon he had seen as a child. He hummed because he didn't want to scream in frustration, and just like any grand love story, the person of his affection blocked the shinning harsh mistress of a moon and climbed through his window.

His heart pounded like thunder in his ears, and he could tell that the air was damp outside because her hair had waves that rolled more than fell as it usually did.

Terry wanted to yell what she was doing in his room! He wanted to be indignant about the intrusion as though she were still the center of his universe…but the truth was that she still was, and maybe on some level she knew it too.

She didn't talk. She just stood in his room with this look of confusion upon her face, and his arms automatically twitched to move up in reflex. He'd done it a million times before, but he couldn't now. He put his hands back in his pocket. She wasn't his now.

The thought just spurred his anger.

"Why are you here?" He asked more harshly than he intended. He ran his right hand through his hair in agitation. He couldn't stand all the conflicting emotions that ran rampant with revenge inside of him. They were taunting him for being such a coward, for never reading that letter, for never telling her he was Batman, and for everything else he had ever done wrong concerning Melanie.

Melanie stood inside Terry's bedroom, the same bedroom that he had sworn to never forget about her in. The same room that had countless unspoken words hanging in the air from the memories where they were just too deep into each other to bother to say.

Family had visited her and spoke to her and in the end all she could think to do was run to arms that would always be warm and comforting, even if she hated herself for the weakness and hated him for making her more _Melanie – _the girl – and less _Ten_ – the warrior who could survive anything.

"Does it matter?" She asked but she knew she was just running around in circles with him. If she kept at it, it would just be a repetition of words that they had spoken the other day. She saw him looking for an answer, she saw it in the way his lips tilted downwards and his stance changed slightly. She took notice of everything about him and wondered if he did the same thing with her. She locked gazes with Terry and turned swiftly to the rest of the room. This bedroom had too many passionate encounters branded on its walls for locking gazes to ever be safe and ardor free.

"You still have the necklace I gave you!" Melanie exclaimed as she noticed on his bureau, right next to a picture of his family, was a necklace she had given him as a joke. It was made of brown leather and on it was a silver cross and a topaz looking quartz stone that a gypsy woman had told her had healing properties. She had thought at the time that maybe it would heal him of his shattered heart because of Dana and then belong solely to her. It was to mark him as hers. She thought he would have thrown it away when he decided she meant nothing to him anymore…but he had said that he still cared. He'd said it, and the necklace looking as if he took excellent care of it proved it. _Finally_ action that backed up his words!

But the warrior inside of Melanie refused to let hope build in her chest. '_Maybe he just liked the necklace too much to throw it away_,' her mind rationalized.

'_Maybe he still needed to heal his heart, but because of us,_' Melanie's heart rebutted. It was a vicious cycle that could take a while – that kind of inside monologue with oneself – so she decided to focus on Terry, though she knew it was dangerous. They were explosive on a good day, let alone on a night like this one, where the heat was stifling and the anger at each other could reach epic proportions of scaled.

Terry never responded though. He couldn't. He realized with almost a blinding epiphany that his necklace was Bruce's rose, and his heart panicked. He couldn't be like Bruce, he just couldn't.

He marched over to the bureau, snatched the necklace up, then marched right up into Melanie's face. He was so close that he could see the specks of the lighter shade of cerulean blue in her eyes. He was mesmerized, but nothing could distract him from the anxiety attack that was slowly building it's way up from his toes and finger tips up to his neck and spine.

Terry thrust his hand out, and whispered harshly "Take it! I don't want it!" His hands brushed over the exposed skin of her collarbone and the tingles he felt in his hand had nothing to do with a panic attack. It was ridiculously counterproductive to getting Melanie in his arms, especially since he knows that he wants her, but he just couldn't be Bruce. He couldn't become him. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair and if he was Bruce…that meant that Melanie would betray him and leave him, just like Selina.

Terry could take not having her ever again, but he wasn't so sure he could take another betrayal from Melanie. Better yet, he didn't think he could take her turning around and walking away. It was excruciatingly painful to even think about and he felt as though any moment his resolve would crumble and the world would see his façade; but he didn't break and he could make out the hurt in Melanie's eyes. He could see the pain fighting her for control, and it was an incredible sight to see. It was more incredible to see the Ten inside of her take over and squash the blistering pain with one breath.

Terry's hand dropped the necklace on to the floor and went to grab the side of Melanie's face tenderly, but by the time he realized he was so sorry for what he said and the hurt he had caused…Melanie was gone. Only air stood in her place and he tried to grasp at it with his strong hand, but air didn't touch and couldn't feel. He was left alone, having driven the girl he wanted away. The necklace she had given him so long ago lay un-shattered on the floor, never aging or losing its luster.

He had truly become Bruce, and it ate at him.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

It was Batman time, and now that he was truly alone he could finally embrace the Batman within himself.

When Terry had spoken so cruelly to her, Melanie felt vertigo grip her and strangle her with its monstrosity. Melanie wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Ten was rising up and screaming "_Fuck him! If he doesn't need me than I don't need him!" _

She was strong once again but the pain lingered. It always lingered and it was always because of him. She hated him. She hated herself more for allowing him to hurt her. So she ran. She ran into the rain and into the cruel world who had dealt her bad hands over and over again with the same man. She ran until she reached her apartment and flew through the door with a swiftness that would have made her extravagant father who was rotting in Jail proud.

Melanie reached her room and started to tear things apart. She was looking for something she wasn't aware of. Her hands had taken leave of her brain and were shifting and rifting through things at a fast pace. Things were crashing on the floor and the noise was deafening to her; every one of her senses were heightened because she needed to focus on anything other than the lingering pain.

'_That son of a bitch!' _her mind yelled at her. She was hurting and she was angry. But her hands finally found a suitcase made out of pure gold. Her pace slowed down, time rushing back to her and anticipation washing over her like an adrenaline junkie. She was ready. She was angry and hurting and so _fucking ready! _

She opened the clasps on either side, and sitting there was her Ten of Spades suit, folded in pristine condition.

"So, I'm guessing this is a yes?" She heard a male voice behind her. The same voice from earlier. Family.

"Yea, _fuck him!_" She said though she knew family didn't care. It only mattered that tonight Ten was back.

-TBC-

Finally! What do you guys think? Getting exciting? I'm sort of proud of this chapter, but then again I could just be fooling myself. Feel free to tell me either way! :D

Like it? Hate it? Review! :)


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